


Paradise City

by lacqueluster (GG_and_MM)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, PWP, Sex, Smut, Three-Way F/M/M, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7014574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GG_and_MM/pseuds/lacqueluster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hypothetical question asked in the dark.  "Okay, if you like men so much then which one of us would you pick? And you can’t say neither, you have to pick."   He didn't say you couldn't choose both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise City

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Gabe's Girl (Lacqueluster); Beta by Miss Moose

You trudge up the final flight of stairs, your feet dragging and your bag flopping on your shoulder.

Dean yanks the stairwell door open and you follow him through it, Sam somewhere behind you bringing up the rear.

Your feet hurt and so does your back, probably from tensing up when you ran off the road. All you want is a hot shower and sleep. And privacy, but you’re not gonna get that. Not tonight anyway.

Dean slips the room key in the lock and shoves the door open with the toe of his boot. "After you, princess." He motions for you to go ahead.

You’re instantly annoyed. "Stop calling me princess."

"Then stop acting like one," he mumbles behind you.

"I’m not acting--" You survey the room and your irritation triples, "are you kidding me?! The honeymoon suite? Did you do this on purpose, because I swear--"

"Oh, pipe down," Dean says. "I told you they only had one room left and it has a king size bed. Last minute cancel and they gave it to us for cheap. I didn’t know it was the honeymoon suite, not that I care." He tosses the room key on the table.

"Well the rose petals are a nice touch," Sam jokes.

You just can’t find any humor in this situation, which is unusual because you usually have a pretty good sense of humor. When it comes to the Winchesters though, they always seem to suck the fun out of everything. You never walk away from them without being pissed off. Never.

The bed is huge; they told Dean the truth on that. It's also covered in red and pink rose petals. Candles line the headboard and night stands just waiting to be lit. There's also a huge Jacuzzi tub tucked into a corner of the room.

"Oh hell yeah, I'm soaking in this thing later," Dean’s voice is low as he wanders toward the tub. There are candles covering the rim and he picks one up to smell it. "Vanilla, nice." 

"You know what, I’ll just sleep in the Impala," you hoist your bag over your shoulder again, "I’ll see you two in the morning."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Dean’s tone runs right through you and you round on him. 

"What’s my problem? Do you really have the nerve to ask me that? My problem, Dean, is that you two hijacked my hunt. Everything was going just fine until you boys showed up. Then you run me off the road and leave me sitting there while you head off to take care of the ghouls. My car is trashed, thanks to you, and when you finally decide to come back, you laugh. You _laugh_. Come on, you’re not stupid. You know exactly why I’m mad."

Dean moves in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Sam is milling around in the room somewhere behind you.

"First of all, I didn’t run you off the road. You lost control of your car. Don’t put that on me. Second of all, we didn’t know you were on this hunt until we saw you leaving the house after those ghouls. When you went off the road Sam looked back and said you were fine, so we followed them and took care of it. If we’d let them go you’d be bitching about that, am I right?"

You don’t bother responding. You’d really like to punch him in the face. It wouldn’t help the situation so you clench your fist and wait for him to move.

"You’re not sleeping in my car. Forget it. Get your ass in bed, the sooner this night is over the sooner you get your car back and we can part ways." He moves away from the door finally.

You toss your bag in the bathroom. "You think if I offer the guy at the desk a hundred bucks he could dig up a cot?"

Sam looks over. He’s holding the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket. "I doubt it, Dean already asked for one and they said they were out. You think they keep cots hidden or something?"

Why do these two always piss you off? Every time you run into them they set your teeth on edge. Even Sam, and he seems like the more reasonable one of the two.

"Fine, I’m taking a shower," you step into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

"Don’t use all the hot water, Princess!" you hear Dean yell. He says something else but it's not as loud. You can barely hear him through the thin door. "Maybe I'll light some of these candles, think it'll put her in a better mood when she comes back out?"

God, you cannot stand him. He just gets under your skin. Set the mood? Seriously? He's so sure of himself it's ridiculous. Everything he says manages to tick you off and he knows it. He’s probably out there grinning that cocky, shit eating grin right now. He shouldn’t be so handsome, it’s not fair. It makes it harder to hate him when he’s that damn attractive.

"Shut up, Dean. Just leave her alone," you hear Sam say.

And there’s Sam, always swooping in to mediate and save the day. Of the two of them you’d think you’d get along better with Sam, but something about him always trying to fix things between you and Dean just irritates the shit out of you. Plus he’s got those dimples. And when he stretches his shirt comes up and you can see his six-pack. Asshole. They’re both assholes. And you have to share a bed with them tonight.

You strip and step under the steaming water, trying to let it loosen the tight muscles in your back. If you’re being honest they really didn’t run you off the road. You’d looked up and saw that big black Impala inching up on you and got distracted. You'd pressed your foot into the gas just a _little_ bit harder, trying to lose them and it was too much. The loose gravel sent you fishtailing and you couldn’t get it under control in time.

Luckily the ditch wasn’t deep and your car just needed a few repairs. The Winchesters hadn’t left you sitting in the field a minute longer than they had to, but still. And of course, _of fucking course_ this was the one time your cell phone was dead. You'd set off walking hoping someone would happen by, but nope. Just the brothers, always there to save the day. The fact that you needed them at all just ticked you off.

And they’re so nice about it. Well, Dean isn’t really nice, but he’s not a jerk either. Maybe he is a little, but he handles your attitude pretty well, considering. You should probably thank them but just the thought of that makes you want to punch the wall. That’s not happening.

So you’re stuck in a podunk town that only has two hotels, and this is the only room to be had. Which figures, because this hunt had been a joke from the beginning. Nothing had gone your way in Paradise City. That’s for damn sure. 

Paradise City, what the hell kind of name is that for a Midwestern town anyway? It’s far from paradise, or a city for that matter.

You finish your shower and rummage through your bag. Of course. Of fucking course this would be the night you run out of clean underwear. That figures, that’s exactly how this day has gone.  
You pull your flannel pants on and tie the drawstring tight around your waist. At least you have a clean t-shirt left. You tug it over your wet hair and step out of the bathroom on bare feet.

Sam does a double take, his hands hovering over the keyboard of his laptop. He's probably staring because you’re not wearing a bra, but whatever. You’re getting straight into bed anyway. And who can sleep in a bra? It’s bad enough to wear one all day, you’re certainly not going to sleep in one.

You toss your duffle bag out of the way and move to the bed. Dean is propped up against the headboard watching TV. He ignores you when you try to pull the blankets back, flipping rose petals everywhere.

"Can you move? I’d like to lay down."

"Man, you are really high maintenance, you know that?" He looks at you with an expression full of annoyance and it sets your anger off like a flare gun.

"Excuse me? Did you just call me high maintenance--"

" _GUYS_!" Sam’s yell cuts you off. "Stop! Please, just stop. Stop fighting for five minutes, okay? I just want to take a shower and not walk back out to World War III. Can you do that?"

"Fine." Dean throws his legs off the bed and strides away. He sits where Sam was sitting and kicks his feet up on the table, looking directly at the TV. "But there better be some hot water left when I get in there."

You settle in the bed and cover yourself up; peeking out to watch the movie Dean has on. Tombstone. Val Kilmer is awesome in this. At least Dean has decent taste in movies.

Sam is out of the shower in five minutes. He’s wearing flannel pants and a t-shirt, just like you are.

He crawls in bed and you scoot as far away from him as possible. It’s immature and you know it, but you can’t help it.

"This doesn’t have to be weird, we’re all adults," Sam says to both you and Dean.

"Yes, Sam, everyone in this room is an adult. We’re plenty mature, we get it. Now can I take a shower so we can go to sleep?"

"No one’s stopping you from taking a shower, Dean." You shouldn’t have said it; there wasn’t any reason to be snippy. You said it anyway and Dean slams the door behind him.

He takes his time in the shower. Obviously there was plenty of hot water left.

You and Sam resolutely ignore each other. You don’t even move in the bed, both lying perfectly still.

Dean walks out of the bathroom and you try so hard not to look at him. So. Damn. Hard. But his hair is wet and sticking up all sexy like and his sweatpants are barely holding on to his hips. The old Kiss shirt he’s wearing is clinging to his damp shoulders and it puts all kinds of dirty thoughts in your head.

He stands on your side of the bed and waits.

"Move it," he says when he realizes you’re ignoring him.

"No way, I’m not sleeping in the middle!" You look up at him. You shouldn’t have looked up at him. His green eyes are staring down at you in determination. Shit.

"Yes you are, you’re the smallest. Now move it."

You jerk away, yanking the blankets with you, which leads to a tugging match on all sides as Sam and Dean fight to cover themselves up.

The bed is huge but somehow you can’t all fit without somehow touching each other. You roll to your side facing Dean. You don’t want to face Dean but what the hell are you supposed to do? Facing Sam is no better.

You pull the blankets over your head.

"Can you shut the TV off?" Sam asks.

It clicks and then there’s quiet. Sam sighs heavily, shifting his shoulders, making the bed move.

You can hear both of them breathing. You can smell them. They smell clean, like soap and shampoo, and men. They have that smell that’s purely male.

This is not good. That smell reminds you how long it’s been since you’ve gotten laid. You really shouldn’t be thinking about that right now because it’s been way too long. This is a bad idea. So bad.

They’re radiating heat. They’re like living, breathing furnaces. You’re about to start sweating. Three people in full pajamas with blankets over them is just unrealistic. It’s too much.

You abruptly throw the blankets back off your head. "Are you guys hot? I’m hot. It’s like a million degrees in here."

"Don’t say a word, Dean," Sam says from behind you.

Dean shakes with silent laughter.

"What?" you ask.

Sam is shaking with laughter now too.

You bolt up, instantly mad. "What the hell’s so funny?!" Dammit, how do these two manage to piss you off so much?

"Nothing, it’s stupid. I was going to make a stupid joke about you being hot and Sammy caught me before I did. Just forget it."

"So you guys know each other’s jokes before you even say them?" You settle down on your side again. It’s dark now that the TV’s off and the room is pitch black, you can’t even see Dean’s profile and his face isn’t more than a foot away.

"Most of the time, yeah." You can feel Dean move. He must be putting his arms behind his head.

"And none of his jokes are funny. Ever." Sam mumbles.

That makes you laugh a little, you can’t help it.

"Bullshit. I’m hilarious and you both know it."

"No, no way. I don’t know any such thing." You’re still laughing a little through the words.

"Oh whatever. Like I’ve never made you laugh. Come on, there has to be at least one time I made you laugh."

You think for a second. "Fine. I’ll admit it. Once."

"See? When was it, what did I say."

"It was when you bagged yourself with that pool stick that time in Idaho. You remember that? I ran into you in that bar. You were hitting on that girl and I don’t even know how you did it but you doubled over and turned green. I felt bad for about five seconds but then that chick was all over you and I started laughing, I couldn’t help it."

Sam hoots from behind you. "I remember that! How did you manage that one, Dean? You tripped or something, right?"

"Shut up, both of you! That hurt like hell!"

"Oh, I’m sure she kissed it and made it all better," you tease.

"No, she didn’t. Her husband came in the bar not long after you left. I was stuck with a sore set of blue balls."

You’re rocking with laughter now. Sam is making the bed shake he’s laughing so hard. You actually snort, which is embarrassing but Sam seems to find it hysterical.

"Fuck off, you two. I’m funny and you know it."

"Trust me, Dean, I have a weakness for funny men. If you were funny I’d know it."

"Do you even like men? You don’t seem to like anyone," Sam says.

Dean hoots now. He actually claps his hands he laughs so hard. "Good one, Sammy!"

"Don’t make me smother you with a pillow, Sam. Yes, I like men. I like men a lot, actually."

They settle down, their laughter fading away. It’s quiet for a long moment before Dean finally breaks the silence.

"Okay, if you like men so much then which one of us would you pick? And you can’t say neither, you have to pick."

"For what? Like a date or…" You let the question trail away, your meaning is obvious.

"A date, start with that."

You think for a minute. Which brother would you rather date? You can’t imagine what a date with either of them would be like. Would you go to a movie? Bowling? The library? Probably the library if Sam had to choose. Dean would be more fun but Sam would be better to talk to. How the hell are you supposed to decide?

"Both," you finally say.

"Both?" Sam sounds incredulous. "You can’t pick both."

"Why not? He said I couldn’t say neither, he didn’t say anything about both."

"Ok then, what about the other. Who would you pick for…" Dean lets the question trail away just like you did.

Your answer is immediate this time; it’s out of your mouth before you think it through. "Both." Thank God it’s pitch black so they can’t see the flaming heat in your face.

Silence follows. A long stretch of silence. You have no idea what to say to make things less awkward so you just lay there silently and try not to even breathe. You wish you could melt into the mattress and just disappear. Why did you have to say both? That was weird. Although saying either one of them would have been weird. And Dean told you not to say neither. That would have been the best answer but of course he took it off the table.

Asshole.

Sam abruptly stands. He stumbles over something as he moves toward the bathroom.

"Sammy’s going to jack off," Dean whispers loudly.

"Shut the hell up, Dean!" The embarrassment in Sam’s voice is clear.

Jesus, why did Dean say that? Why of all things would he ever say _that_? What a horrible joke. You want to crawl in a hole and hide.

Sam is in the bathroom less than a minute before he’s back out. He lays down behind you again, flopping and flipping and yanking on the blankets in an attempt to get comfortable.  
It doesn't appear to be working.

"Okay, if I can’t do anything about this then you’re gonna have to get your ass off my thigh."

"Do anything about what?" You look over your shoulder to where Sam is laying on his back but you can't see him in the dark. His shoulder is touching the base of your neck since you turned toward him. You can feel the heat from his arm.

He pushes his thigh into your butt. There's nowhere for you to move. Your knees are touching Dean and your butt and feet are barely touching Sam. It's impossible to sleep stick straight when you have to lay on your side.

"Listen, I'm not used to sharing a bed with anyone, least of all a woman. Your ass pressing up against me is causing," he pauses, searching for a word. " _Issues_ ," he finally says.

Oh God. You're so dense sometimes. He really was going to the bathroom to jack off, Dean wasn't joking. How did you get yourself into this situation? Of all the fucked up things to happen how did you end up in bed with the Winchester brothers? This night is never going to end.

"Her ass does cause issues, doesn't it? Caused me issues before too." 

You hate it when Dean’s voice is low like that. It causes you _issues._ Bastard. You should probably be offended by what he said but it was kind of a compliment, right? 

"Shut up, Dean. I never know if you're trying to flirt or just being a dick to me." Your face is burning up; if someone touched a match to it the thing would set fire.

"Neither do I when it comes to you." Dean pushes his leg into your knees and your feet shove into Sam. 

Did he just say he doesn't know if he flirts with you? What does that mean? 

You flip to your back and you’re wedged between them.

"Okay, no. How the hell am I supposed to lay? This bed is ten feet wide and both your shoulders are taking up nine feet of it. How is that possible?"

They both flip to their sides facing away from you. You’re left staring up at the ceiling, if you could see the ceiling. It’s too dark to see anything. You’re never going to sleep. You’re going to blink into the darkness all night and be exhausted tomorrow, you can already tell.

But eventually you hear both men drift into sleep. Their breathing changes, it goes slower, deeper. Dean starts snoring softly. It’s calming somehow, not being alone. You don’t feel like you have to be on guard, ready to defend yourself.

So both these men just told you that they've checked out your ass. Should you be mad about that? Haven't women been fighting for years to _not_ be objectified by men? Shouldn't you be completely offended and berating them over it? Why does it feel kind of satisfying?

And really, when you think about it (or over think about it is more accurate), do you have any room to talk about these men checking you out? Because it's about all you do when you're around them. Stare at how gorgeous they are and hate them, that's what you do.

Can you really be pissed at them when you do it too? And what straight woman wouldn't appreciate a good long look at the Winchesters? No one would blame you.

Dean with those lips. Those goddamn perfectly kissable lips. And those teeth, you've imagined those teeth nibbling on your neck more than once, you have to admit. And he's got those broad shoulders, his shirt pulls tight and you can see the muscles in his back. Those bow legs, oh god, those legs do things to you.

Shit. You need to stop thinking about this. But if you've made a mental list of Dean’s physical beauty shouldn't you do the same for Sam? That's only fair, right?

Sam. He's so tall it should be illegal. He's obscenely tall, why is that even attractive? Who knows, but it is. And he's all legs and sinewy muscles. That smile, he flashes that charming boyish smile and you want to melt all over him. And his hands. Those hands put dirty, _dirty_ thoughts in your head. Those long fingers, they're strong, you know they are. He could hold you down easily and do all kinds of wonderful, horrible things to you.

You wonder what they're like in bed. Sam is probably gentle and patient. He probably goes slow and easy, making sure you'd be fully satisfied. Dean on the other hand is probably bossy and take charge. He probably kisses like he's on fire, hard and hot. His hands are probably rough and-

Shit. You have to stop. Stop thinking about this. This is bad, it's so bad. Imagining these men doing these things when they're just inches away from you? No. Not a good idea. You need to cool it, pronto.

You relax, your eyelids getting heavy. You’re finally lulled to sleep by the sounds of their breathing.

Sometime during the night you wake up on your side, facing Dean. His back is to you, you can tell because either you or him has scooted closer to the other. That’s not worrisome though, which you’d think it would be. You’d think having your nose practically pressed between Dean Winchester’s shoulder blades would be pretty problematic, but nope. That’s the least of your worries right now.

No, the more pressing issue here is coming from behind.

Sam has spooned himself to your back. He’s pressed up tight to you from his chest all the way down to your thighs, not an inch of space. His left arm has a vice like grip around your ribs and his face is smashed into your hair.

He’s dreaming. Mumbling a little, but you can’t understand it. And there’s something long and very hard pressing into your butt cheek.

His right arm is somehow bent under your head like a pillow. How the hell did you get in this position without waking up? It doesn’t matter. What matters now is not moving. Not even breathing. Just holding extremely still so you don’t wake him up.

The hard length of him pressed into your ass is proving impossible to ignore. Sam Winchester's dick is poking into you, how the hell do you ignore that? You can't. It’s causing feelings. Things you really don’t want to be feeling when you’re in bed with these two men.

You need to go to the bathroom. Not to pee, just to escape. And rub one out. Because this urge is making you not think clearly. You really shouldn’t be considering grinding against that thing. That’s a bad idea. A really bad idea.

But here in the dark it seems like such a good idea. Like you could do this with Sam and get a little relief and just forget about it tomorrow. He’d probably be okay with that, right? Just act like it never happened. You could do that. You could totally do that.

You’d really like to get a hand between your legs but you’re afraid you’ll wake him up. You’re pretty sure if you could get your hand down there you could manage to get yourself off really fast, you’re that turned on right now. And you could be quiet. You’ve been quiet before, you can do it.

But if you move and Sam wakes up, what then? Will he be freaked out? Will he roll away? God forbid, would he touch you? Oh God, if he touched you… 

Or you could touch him. That arm that's wrapped so tightly around you, you've admired those arms before. The muscles, the veins, Sam has perfect arms. You should add that to your mental list.

This is a bad place to be in. The Winchester's are bad news; you should never have agreed to stay here. But there were no other rooms available in town, what were you supposed to do? Sleep in the lobby? Or on a park bench? Anywhere would be better than right here, right now.

The Winchesters, the fucking Winchesters. What were you thinking? They have a bad reputation amongst hunters, hell they have a bad reputation all around. They're unpredictable and dangerous. Plus that whole apocalypse thing. You don't need to get tied up with them; you don't even want to be associated with them.

But here you are, tucked between them in bed with Sam's cock making you want to ride it with everything you've got. Jesus Christ, you're in serious trouble. Of all the hunts you've been on, all the times you've almost been killed, you've never been in this much trouble. 

Which is why it's a really bad idea to be running your palm down Sam's forearm right now, feeling the hair on his skin. Why are you doing that? You shouldn't, you should stop. Instead you lightly wrap your fingers around his wrist and rub your thumb back and forth. Just once. You only let yourself do it _once_.

But that's all it takes. Sam jerks awake and then freezes. 

You don't move, not a single muscle. You play dead, or asleep would be a better description, lying completely still. You take short tiny breaths hoping he won't notice. 

He pulls his face away from your hair but doesn't move anything else. 

"Hey," he whispers. He says the word softer than Dean’s little snores.

You ignore it, pretending to sleep. Your eyes are wide open though, staring at Dean's back.

He leans in and you hear him take a deep breath. He's smelling you. He's actually smelling your hair. 

Your thumb moves on his wrist again. You didn't mean to do it; it was some kind of reaction to him smelling you. Which is kind of a weird thing for him to do when you think about it, but technically you smelled them both too when they came to bed so…

Sam felt the tiny movement of your thumb. You know he did because his hand pulled back a little. He slides his arm out from around you and you assume he's turning away. He's awake and it's weird now and he's moving. Him wrapping around you wasn't intentional at all, just some kind of instinct that took over while he slept.

The heat of his arm retreating leaves you a little cold. And then you feel his hand slip between you. He slides his dick over from the angle it was at and slots it in the cleft of your ass. He sighs a little in relief as his arm tucks around you again.

"Issues," he whispers into your hair.

You smile into the darkness. "Yeah, I could feel that issue," you whisper back. 

His hand is on your stomach, his thumb rubbing in the fabric of your t-shirt.

"I can go to the bathroom and take care of it if you want." He doesn't make any move to leave the bed, but it's clear that if you're not interested he'll leave you alone.

This is it. This is your out. You should tell him to go jack off and leave this be. You have to, you can't sleep with him. You can't.

"That's okay; I'm having some issues myself." What the fuck are you doing? Why did you say that? And why are you arching your back to grind into him? 

His hand moves from your stomach to grip your hip as he pushes against you with a huff.

And that's it; you've got to have some friction between your legs. You've never been this worked up or turned on in your life and things haven't even started. You move your hand lower but Sam beats you to it.

His fingers rubbing over the outside of your pajama pants is almost enough to get you off. If he would push in just a _little_ harder you probably could, but as it is it's enough to make you moan into Dean's back. 

Sam slips his jaw into your neck and the stubble sets the sensitive skin there on fire.

Dean is rolling toward you now, stretching. He has to know what's going on, or maybe he's just realizing it, you're not sure. If you could see his face you'd be able to tell. 

He lays still for a minute, listening to the rustle of the fabric as you and Sam rut against each other. His face is inches from yours; you can feel his breath on your cheek. He finally moves closer, his lips right over yours when he speaks.

"You still want both?" 

He's asking your permission here, that fact isn't lost on you. Just like before with Sam you have a choice. You can tell him no. But who in their right mind would say no to Dean Winchester? Not you. You're no fool. 

Actually you are, you just don't give a shit right now.

"Fuck it," your lips catch on his as you whisper the words. "If we're gonna do this we might as well do it right." Sam has finally pulled the drawstring on your pajama pants and he's working his hand down the front.

Dean smiles against your mouth; you can feel that cocky grin. "What’dya know, we finally agree on something." 

He kisses you and it's soft and chaste, mouths closed, gentle. He's testing the waters. He presses his lips to yours again, longer this time before he pulls back. And then you feel his palm on your face and he slots his head to the side. He teases your mouth open gently with his tongue and he explores.

You were wrong. You were wrong about how Dean kisses. He's not hard and heated at all. His tongue follows yours, teasing and tasting. Those perfect teeth nibble your bottom lip because you're having a hard time kissing him back. 

Sam's hand has moved between your legs and those long fingers are slipping between your folds to land on your clit. It's all you can do to breathe right now.

"She's not wearing any underwear," Sam says into your neck. He's grinding a rhythm on your ass as his fingers swirl circles around your clit.

Dean smiles into the kiss as he pulls back. "Did you plan this?" 

You chase his mouth and kiss him hard, almost defiant. "You wish, Winchester."

He moves his body up to the front of you and you can feel his erection jut into your thigh.

"You're right, I did," the tone of his voice makes your hair stand up. "I was falling asleep thinking about you with no panties on, your nipples hard in your little t-shirt," his hand grazes over your chest and you shiver. "I wanted to roll over and kiss you until you couldn't think, until you were putty in my hands."

Sam starts a back and forth slide over your clit with his middle finger and your breath whooshes out of you. You lean back into him, you want get on your back and spread your legs but he's not budging. You reach between you and grab Sam’s cock. _Dammit, that thing is gonna feel so good._

It's frustrating that you can't move, you can't arch up. "Shit, Sam," you moan as he bites your shoulder. He's thrusting into your fist now. "I'm pretty much putty in _his_ hands right now, Dean."

Sam is pulling his hand out from between your legs and you whimper. What the hell? You were getting close. 

He slides down, his hands pulling your pants along as he eventually tugs them from your feet. 

When they're off Dean is pressing his face into your neck, murmuring in your ear. "Yeah, that's just because I haven't gotten my hands on you yet," and then he's kissing you, deep and long. Damn that man can kiss.

Sam is kissing his way from your ankle up your calf, his stubble blazing a trail on your skin. He licks and bites up your thigh as Dean finally settles a hand between your legs. 

Dean can read your reactions like a book and his fingers play you like an instrument. He keeps you right on the edge, desperate to come but not quite letting you. 

Meanwhile Sam is slowly ripping your t-shirt up the back, leaving your skin bare for his mouth. He's kissing and licking up your spine, and then he's slotted against your ass again. He hikes your left leg up and slides his cock just over your entrance and you gasp into Dean’s mouth. 

You want Sam inside you _now_ , you've never wanted to be fucked this bad in your life. 

Dean breaks the kiss. "No, Sammy, not yet. We're gonna make her beg. She's gonna beg us to fuck her." Dean kisses you gently and then rolls away. "You need to kiss her, Sam. Damn she can kiss." 

"Where are you going?" You ask as you feel Dean’s weight leave the bed. 

Sam is nuzzling by your ear. "Come here."

"I'm going to get us some light. I like to see when I'm fucking, especially when they look like you." You hear the flick of a zippo and smell the unmistakable scent of lighter fluid. Dean lights the candles on the night stands and the dresser.

You roll toward Sam and you can see him in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide and he smiles with one side of his mouth as he looks at you. 

"You guys do this all the time or what? Seems like you've got it all mapped out." 

"No, never," Sam says quickly, and then his mouth is on top of yours. 

Jesus, Mary and Joseph were you wrong about these two. You had them totally backwards. Sam kisses like you thought Dean would. It's hard and hot and unrelenting, he takes and takes until you can't catch your breath. His hands fist in your hair and he doesn't let you move.

Dean is behind you again and he's naked now, you can feel the warmth of his bare stomach on your back. 

He kisses your shoulder. "No we've never done this before; we just make a good team. We know what the other one is thinking." 

Sam is the only one of you that's still fully dressed and you really want to get your hands on that body. He's still kissing you like he needs it to live and you push his shirt up and trail your fingers down those abs. The waist of his pants is loose and you easily slip your hand inside, wrapping it tight around his cock. 

You take your other hand behind you and do the same with Dean. He lets out a groan that makes your toes curl. 

It's awkward at first, when you start jacking them off. One arm in front of you and one behind makes it hard to find a rhythm, but when you finally do Sam pulls away from the kiss. He holds your face in his hands and presses his forehead into yours, his breathing short and fast.

"That feel good?" you whisper to them. 

Sam's eyes flutter open and he nods. Dean's hand finds your hip and squeezes it. 

Dean’s hand slides around you and gently teases your nipple. Your eyes close and you press you ass back into him.

Sam's hand grabs your top leg and lifts it up, resting it on his hip. His fingers hit your clit, sliding over it exactly like he was before. He kisses you again, softer now, just an easy press of his lips to yours.

Your hips are moving, you aren't thinking about it they're just rocking on their own. You're desperate to come, you need the release. You feel like you're going to explode.

"Please, Sam, please let me come…" 

"Come on, I got you," he kisses your temple.

You can't keep the rhythm going with your hands any more, you're too lost in what you're feeling. Dean's hands are roaming over you and one slides down over your ass. He gently pushes two fingers just inside you as your orgasm starts. 

"There it is, good girl," Dean’s deep voice comes from where his mouth is kissing your neck.

Heat pools in your belly and you want to grind on Sam's hand. You don't have enough movement though, the brothers are surrounding you. There are arms and hands and thighs everywhere. It rips through you, down between your legs, and then it washes over every nerve in your body. You're clenching so hard you see stars and your thighs shake and tingle. 

Dean doesn't move his fingers and you feel the muscles inside you squeeze around them. "Fuck yeah," he bites the words out.

You're making sounds you don't even recognize, you've never made a sound like that before when you came but quite honestly you don't give a shit. Sam's not stopping with his hand and you're not sure your orgasm is ever going to stop. 

"Shit, holy shit," you finally breathe, "oh my god." 

Sam's hand stops and Dean pulls his fingers out of you. 

"You okay?" Sam whispers in your ear.

You just need to breathe for a second. You nod at him. "Yeah, that--" you take a deep breath, "I'm okay, I'm good."

"You need a minute?" Dean wraps his hand around yours on his cock and pumps it a few times. 

You tighten your grip on him. "No, I said I'm good."

He pulls his hand away and scoots down the bed a little, laying on his back. "Come on then." He stares up at you.

You figure you know what he wants and slide yourself down, preparing to take him in your mouth.

"What are you doing?" He looks at you in confusion.

"Uh, I was going to suck--"

"No," he shakes his head, cutting you off. "Huh uh, we're not done yet." He tugs you up his body and kisses you briefly. "Have a seat, princess." 

And there's that cocky grin. You have to admit, he has a right to be cocky. Dean Winchester just told you to sit on his face and it was pretty damn smooth. 

Sam is climbing on the bed as you move your hips over Dean’s face. Sam sits on the edge of the head board in front of you and he's totally naked. His body is everything you imagined it would be. 

Your hands hit Sam’s muscular thighs for balance as Dean’s tongue teases you open. You're still really sensitive and it won't take much of that before you're coming again. 

"Be easy, Dean. I'm still sensitive."

Sam's hands are on your sides to help support you and he leans down to kiss. He lightly flicks his thumbs over your nipples and you squeeze his thighs. 

You put your hand on his chest and push him back so he's leaned into the wall. Dean has eased up; he's lightly teasing you, slowly working you up. You can get Sam off before you come again, you know you can. 

"You wanna come in my mouth?" you say to Sam. His eyes fly open at that, his lips parting. 

You love making a man come apart using your mouth and hands, seeing him lose all control while you torture him in the best way possible. Right now there's nothing you want more than to see Sam Winchester trying desperately to hold on while you suck him off.  
You lower your mouth to Sam's cock and suck the head, making him gasp as his hands fist in your hair. Your tongue flicks over the slit and his head hits the wall. This will be fun; guys this responsive are always _fun._

You work your mouth down gradually, finally pushing him as far into your throat as you can before slowly starting back up. You suck hard and put your hand around the shaft to follow behind your mouth.

"Fuck," Sam says softly. His hands are rough in your hair and you can tell he wants to take control. In a second he won't be able to resist it.

Dean moves his head and somehow pushes your legs further apart. Your weight shifts slightly and you settle further onto his face, giving his tongue more open access to explore.

He shoves his tongue inside you, fucking you with it and you moan around Sam's cock in your mouth. 

Sam takes that sound as his signal to take things over. He plants one hand on the edge of the headboard and raises his hips, thrusting into your mouth. His fist is on the back of your head holding you there as he drives in and out between your lips. 

His breathing is faster and he's grunting every so often as he chases his orgasm. 

Dean is not letting up with his tongue and dammit all you're gonna come again. You have to get your mouth off of Sam, you have a tendency to bite down when you get off and you don't want to be responsible for Sam Winchester losing that beautiful cock. You pull Dean's hair trying to get his attention but he ignores you. 

The headboard is creaking and cracking, it doesn't sound very steady at this point.

"Shit, this isn't gonna hold me," Sam's voice breaks on the words, he sounds wrecked, and then the headboard snaps under his hand. He manages to somehow keep his balance and stand, his hand releasing your hair. 

Your mouth pops off with a lewd sound. "Fuck, Dean, stop. I want to get him off," you manage. Hell, your voice sounds as wrecked as Sam's. You try to raise up to follow Sam but Dean locks his arms over your thighs to hold you to his face.

His tongue is relentless, he's not easing up. Without Sam to distract your attention all you can do is feel what's happening between your legs and it takes less than a minute before you're screaming as you come. Sam is gone, he's off the bed now and you plant your arm out on the wall to keep from falling over. 

Goddamn, you won't survive another orgasm like that. No way.

"You okay there, princess?" Dean asks from between your legs.

"Yeah, fine, but that was shitty. I wanted to get him off with my mouth."

"Hey I didn't break the headboard, not my fault. Lucky for you there's someone else you can get off with your mouth."

You look down and he grins with a wink. 

"How is that fair? What about Sam?"

"I'm sure he'll figure something out. Besides, you owe me one." 

"Oh really? I _owe_ you one?" Your sarcasm is obvious but you're already sliding down his body.

He catches your face in his hands and kisses you quickly. "Only if you want to," he whispers.

You smirk at that and look around for Sam. He's leaned into the dresser with his arms crossed over his chest. It takes a second to really take in his body. It's just unbelievable.

"What are you doing?" you ask him. 

His eyes move from your ass to your face. "Watching." 

"You okay with him taking your turn?" 

He holds eye contact with you and nods once. Then his eyes drift over your body again.

You continue your shimmy over Dean, kissing your way down his chest and stomach and low across his belly. 

He moves to put his arms behind his head as you take him in your hand. When you glance up at him he's looking back with a smirk. His eyes close and you slide your mouth down the length. He's been leaking pre-come and you can taste the saltiness of it.

His hands cover his face as you drag your mouth back up with the tightest suction you can manage, your cheeks hollowed. "Ohhhfuckyeah," he groans into his palms, "you can suck some fucking cock, Jesus." 

"Yeah she can," Sam's voice comes from behind you and you feel his hands on your hips. 

You're on your hands and knees over Dean, your ass sticking up in the air. Sam's obviously taken that as an open invitation to bury his face back there. Your clit is just starting to stop throbbing after your last orgasm and Sam's tongue makes you want to both crawl away and shove back toward him. You whimper; you can't help it.

You set your mind to focusing on Dean, getting him off, not getting distracted by Sam's mouth teasing and tasting you. Mercy sakes! These men love to eat some pussy. And they're good at it too, really _really_ good at it.

With each bob of your head, every twist of your hand or flick of your tongue you can see Dean’s hands sliding around. He's clutching the sheets, twisting them in his strong hands. His fingers threading through your hair for a minute and then they're gone again with a grunt and a buck of his hips.

Sam is making you crazy. He’s licking and sucking and teasing you until you want to shove him on his back and fuck him until he passes out. You've never been this desperate for someone to fill you up.

You pull your mouth off of Dean and he looks down. "What's wrong? Don't stop," his confusion is actually cute, with his brow furrowed and his eyes glazed.

"I'm not stopping, just wait," you turn your head over your shoulder, "Sam?" 

He raises his head when he hears his name, his mouth is wet and shiny and he wipes his face on the back of his arm.

"Fuck me. I need you to fuck me." 

He wastes no time getting on his knees behind you.

"I don't know, Sammy. She was supposed to beg. That didn't sound much like begging to me." 

Sam's hands hold your hips tightly as he lines his cock up. "Shut up, Dean," Sam says. "I don't want to hear your voice right now." And then he shoves into you deep and hard. There's no slow, smooth entrance, no time to adjust to the size of him. It's fast and sharp and exactly what you need. 

Your head falls, your face landing on Dean’s hip bone. "Oh shit," you half sob. Everything down there is so swollen and sensitive; you've never felt something so good in your life.

"Oh fuck you feel so good." Sam is enjoying this as much as you are.

Dean must realize that you're not going to be able to keep going on him; he's scooting lower down the bed until his face is under yours. He pushes the hair back that's hanging down and kisses you, your body rocking above him to the rhythm Sam has set.

You feel his hand between your legs and his finger lightly grazes over your clit. 

"Dean," you whisper, your lips pressed to his cheek.

His mouth is by your ear when he whispers back. "Don't say my name, say his. Tell him how good he feels." 

You let yourself take a minute to just _feel._ Sam is pounding into you, Dean still tracing over your most sensitive of spots, Sam's hands on your waist, holding onto you tightly, Dean kissing your neck and nibbling your ear. It's like sensory overload of the best kind and you know you're going to come again.

"Sam, don't stop, your cock-- oh god," you keen out. Your voice is high, almost desperate.

"You gonna come?" You've never heard Sam sound like that, his voice almost gravely and out of breath. "I'm gonna come." He's driving into you like he's trying to go harder, _deeper,_ his hands squeezing your sides.

"Yeah, I'm gonna--" you can feel that heat in your belly again, that coiling pool, and it rips through you before you're ready. "Yes, yes, yes…" You're chanting the word and you can feel your muscles lock around him. 

"Oh fuck," he slams into you, pressing up to your ass as hard as he can. "Yes, fuckkk--" you can feel him coming, his cock twitching and his weight getting heavier over your back. 

A hand finally lands on the bed beside you to support his weight and you can feel his panting breath on your back. His arm slips around your waist from behind and Sam kisses your shoulder. 

"That was good," he mouths against your skin.

"Mmm…" Is about the only response you can manage at this point. 

Dean has his hands on your face, holding it gently, teasing your bottom lip with his teeth.

"You done, princess?" he asks. 

If it were just you and Sam? Yeah, you might be. But Dean hasn't gotten off yet and you don't want anyone left hanging. And besides, even though you're pretty well satisfied you have to admit that the thought of fucking Dean Winchester is still a huge turn on. 

"No way," you kiss him back and his hands fist in your hair tightly.

"Let me have her, Sam." 

Sam is still inside you, he's still holding you from behind. He eases out and moves to the side of you to lay on his back. He looks flushed and tired.

Dean pulls you down onto him and lets you rest for a minute. His cock is trapped between you, hard and hot, pressed to your belly. His hands roam your back and pay particular attention to your ass. 

You kiss his neck and bite his ear. It doesn't take much movement to shift up and slide him inside you. His groan is pretty satisfying if you do say so yourself.

"Shit, princess, that pussy feels good." 

You laugh a little into his neck, nipping his skin. "Stop calling me princess." 

"Never." He's thrusting up into you from the bottom, his hands gripping your ass.

Your thighs feel like Jello from the orgasms you've had, you can't really hold yourself up now.

"Dean, my legs--" 

He holds you tight as he rolls on top, and then he sits back onto his knees. He pulls you up into his lap, so you're lying on your back while he's slowly fucking you.

"That better?" He's watching you, looking between your face and your chest as the movement bounces your tits.

You raise your arms over your head, if he's gonna watch you might as well look good. And besides, from this position you can watch his face. His brows are tight and he's biting his lip and it's hot as hell knowing that you're wrecking him. 

"Much better," you smile a little and then Sam comes out of nowhere to kiss you.

He's not rough or needy this time, this is slower, gentler. His big hand frames your face. "You gonna come again?" he asks.

You're not sure that's even possible. Not that Dean doesn't feel good or that you're not enjoying it, but you've already gotten off three times. That's pretty close to a record for you.

"I don't know if I can," Dean slows a little and you move your hands to his thighs. Damn he has nice thighs. "Don't you dare stop," you tell him. 

Sam's kissing down your neck. "Oh come on, don't quit on us now."

"I'm not quitting," your hands slide through his hair. It's soft and slick and you feather your fingers through it. 

"Would a tongue help?" He looks up at you as he flicks your nipple.

What does he mean? Is he going down on you again? Is he going to have Dean stop just so he can try to get you off?

He moves lower, kissing your belly, but Dean isn't stopping. Somewhere around the time Sam starts kissing from your hip to your mound you realize he's going to go down on you _while_ Dean is fucking you. What men do that? Are they porn stars or something? 

Who the hell fucking cares, because it feels _awesome._ Dean can't thrust as much with Sam's head down there but he's still moving in and out of you. Sam's tongue should be illegal. It's like an assault on your clit and you want to raise up to his mouth but you can't in this position.

Your hands pull his hair while he licks and flicks and drives you crazy. If you've ever imagined this type of threesome you don't remember it but now you're sure nothing will ever compare. These men seem to know your body like the back of their hands, you'll never be able to resist them again.

And you're hoarse when the orgasm starts, you can't even scream. But Dean gasps as you clench around his cock and as soon as he's sure you're done he's pushing at Sam's head.

"Move, I need to fuck her." He lays down over you and his mouth is on yours instantly as he slams in and out. Skin is slapping and it sounds obscene and hot as hell. Now this, this kiss is what you imagined. It's rough and possessive and Dean is almost growling as he starts to come. He never pulls his mouth off of yours though, even when he's thrusting so hard to try to get every millimeter of his cock inside you.

Your arms wrap around him to hold on, it's all you can do really, and then he collapses on you. 

"Damn, that was…" the words trail away as he rests his forehead on yours.

"Yeah," you nod.

He rolls off of you and you look around for Sam. He's standing at the side of the bed looking down at both of you while he picks up pieces of the headboard from the mattress.

"They're gonna charge us for this." He tosses splintered wood into a little trash can.

"Who cares, it's a fake credit card anyway." Dean throws his arms over his face.

You try to roll to your side and stand but your back catches and you take in a sharp breath. 

Dean is looking at you instantly. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's my back. I think I tensed up when I went off the road. It'll be a bitch tomorrow." You make it to your feet and head to the bathroom. You hear the water turn on in the tub before you come back out.

Dean is lighting candles around the rim and Sam pulls you over.

"Get in; it'll help your back." 

"Guys, I'm tired. What time is it? Shouldn't we sleep?"

Dean is standing in the tub now and he pulls you over the side. The tub has seats made into it and he sits on one and then pulls you onto his lap.

"They said this room has a later check out time, we've got till one in the afternoon."

You let yourself relax back into him. The thought of eight hours sleep sounds better than a beach vacation right now. Just eight uninterrupted hours. 

Sam is pulling the head board out. It was screwed to the wall and it's resting precariously against the bed. He sits it aside and then climbs in the tub.

"Here," he pulls you from Dean onto his legs, "let me rub your back." 

His hands feel so good pressing into the sore muscles. If you weren't in a tub of steaming water you'd probably fall over snoring. As it is you can't hold your head up anymore.

After about a ten minute massage Dean gets out and brings you a towel and a handful of ibuprofen. The three of you climb back into the bed and there's no attempt not to touch each other this time. 

Dean pulls you over so your head is on his chest and Sam spoons to your back with an arm loosely slug over your waist. 

You wonder if you should talk about what happened. What would you even say? Was it a mistake? It doesn't feel like it right now but in the lights of day you'll probably feel different. Should you tell them it can't happen again? Would they even care? 

"Guys, when we wake up tomorrow-"

"Shhh," Dean shushes you, "this never happened. We know, princess."

Well that's settled; at least you don't have to worry about it being awkward.

And surprisingly it's not. The morning brings back normalcy between the three of you. Dean bickers with you and Sam tries to mediate. You eat with them and then they drive you to the garage. 

Sam tries to pay for your car repairs and it pisses you off. Dean calls you princess as often as possible and you threaten to punch him several times. It's not until you're standing at your car door that things feel different.

"So where you headed?" Sam asks.

"I saw a case online about two days' drive from here, figure I'll head that way."

"If it was a haunting in Minnesota we already took care of it," Dean's hands are on his hips, he looks good when he stands like that. He looks good all the time.

"Well shit. I don't know then. I'll figure something out. There's always another case."

They nod, looking around. They look uncomfortable, like they don't know what to do.

"Right, well I'm sure we'll bump into each other in a few months, we always do. You boys be careful." You pull your car door open, ready to escape this weirdness.

"Oh, fuck this," Dean shoves your car door shut and grabs you by the back of the head to pull you to him. He kisses you, his hands on your face and in your hair and it's enough to make you swoon by the time he lets you go. You look at him a little dazed and he shakes his head. "We'll see you again, I promise."

Sam pulls you toward him by the arm and your feet don't seem to be working quite right. You stumble a little and his hands hit your waist to balance you. His kiss starts out easy and gentle but it heats up in no time. His hands grip your ass and he lifts you off the ground and you can't help the little whine that escapes when your arms wrap around his neck. 

When he sits you on your feet again your hand fists in his shirt until you can steady yourself. You can see behind him that all the men in the garage have wandered to the open bay doors to watch you make out with two men. Some of them have their mouths hanging open.

You clear your throat and pull your door open again. "Bye, boys." It's all you can think to say as you slide behind the wheel and tear out of the parking lot away from the Winchesters.


End file.
